


Can't Be Unseen

by Twisted_Mind



Series: 12 Days of Christmas [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Frottage, M/M, Male Slash, Mild Language, Panties, Power Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-17
Updated: 2012-12-17
Packaged: 2018-01-25 09:51:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1644488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twisted_Mind/pseuds/Twisted_Mind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the 4th day of Christmas I give you . . . curiosity that killed the cat. So to speak.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can't Be Unseen

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GhostxWriter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostxWriter/gifts).



> Originally posted Dec 17th 2012 at HP Fandom as a gift. Edited upon re-posting here. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I'm not JKR, I don't own, please don't sue. (Because Draco would pay the best barrister in England to fight and win my case for me anyway.)

Hermione was an inquisitive witch—it was one of the many reasons that she excelled academically. Unfortunately, her curiosity was a character trait and not an academic habit, and as such, it sometimes caused her grief. Usually when she was “being nosey”, as her friends liked to say.   
  
But right now, she wasn’t being nosey—she was simply concerned. For Harry, which made her concern all the more justified, because really? Harry had never been able to keep out of trouble for any length of time. _Ever_. She wasn’t sure he was capable of it.   
  
So when he started acting strangely a few weeks ago, Hermione’s attention had been instantly drawn. Unfortunately, he was being . . . well, _Harry_ , and had only given vague, evasive answers. In short, he drove her to it.   
  
Hermione snitched the Marauder’s Map from his trunk, and kept one eye on it that night as she did her homework. When she saw the dot labelled “Harry Potter” descend the stairs, she rolled her neck, darting a glance at the spiral staircase. She didn’t see anything.   
  
_Using the Invisibility cloak, huh? Nice try, Harry,_ she thought to herself. Waiting until Neville entered the portrait hole—and thereby allowing Harry to slip out—Hermione knew that she’d have to be careful, or she’d be caught. She worked on her essay a few minutes longer, before packing up her things and announcing that she was heading to the library. Ron rolled his eyes good-naturedly, but otherwise, no one paid her much attention. _Perfect_.   
  
Once in the halls, Hermione pulled out the map and trailed her friend from a safe distance. She had to duck into an abandoned classroom to avoid Peeves, but other than that, she made good time—Harry would only have arrived about ten minutes before her. Hermione wasn’t surprised that Harry was in the Room of Requirement—it made sense, given that he was searching for a secure place to do . . . whatever it was he was up to. She started pacing back and forth, thinking about how she needed to know what Harry was doing.   
  
When the door materialized in front of her, Hermione stepped through, fully prepared to unleash a flurry of righteous indignation on her friend for his secretive—and likely dangerous—behaviour. Instead, what she saw stunned her into absolute silence—and made her blood rush to her cheeks.   
  
Draco Malfoy was kneeling on the floor with his face buried in Harry’s lap. Harry was leaning back against the sofa, his legs splayed, his head back, and his hands fisted in the distinctive white-blond hair. Stiffening, he let out a long, low moan, before he released his grip on the Slytherin. The blond pulled back, and carefully tucked her friend’s cock back into his pants, before turning pleading grey eyes on Harry.   
  
“Please? I’ve been good,” he almost whispered, need staining his voice.   
  
“Mm, you have,” Harry murmured into agreement, helping the other man up from the floor. “In that case, you can come,” a stunning smile lit Malfoy’s face, “but only if you can rut your way there,” Harry finished, pulling the blond down to straddle his leg.   
  
Malfoy moaned, shifting so that his knees were braced against the seat of the sofa, his hands clamped on the top of the sofa back. Once he had, he began shifting, sliding his cock—still trapped in his trousers—against Harry’s leg. With no little encouragement from her friend, Hermione noticed.   
  
“That’s it, Draco—rub yourself against my leg, like the shameless whore you are,” Harry whispered hotly, before licking the blond’s neck and eliciting a small moan. “Come on, rock those pretty hips, and imagine the burn of me sliding into your arse,” Malfoy let out a deep, wrenching moan, and sped his thrusting, “Splitting you open and driving in deep. I want you to picture it, and then I want you to cream those pretty silk knickers.”   
  
To his credit, Malfoy did exactly as Harry ordered—he arched and shuddered his way through his orgasm, before collapsing bonelessly against Harry’s chest. Harry—who cradled the other man to him, with his hands running up and down his back in long, smooth strokes. Harry then turned to Hermione, and—looking straight into her eyes—smirked.   
  
Hermione fled.   
  
She ran, with damp knickers and a tell-tale stain on her cheeks, because that smirk told her that Harry had known the _whole time_ that she’d been there, watching. She ran, not bothering to check the Map and make sure that she wouldn’t get caught, because she just didn’t care. And when she finally made it back up to Gryffindor Tower, she kept right on running until she was in her dorm room, with her bed curtains spelled shut around her.   
  
But mostly she ran because after seeing that, she knew that she could never _unsee_ it, and she was quite certain that image of those two boys together was indelibly, deliciously burnt into her brain.   
  
  
  
  



End file.
